


Of Icy Sidewalks and Blackberry Pie

by the_one_that_fell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Meetings, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Injuries, Non-Hockey Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 08:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12229638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: Bitty slips on an icy sidewalk; his dayvastlyimproves after that.





	Of Icy Sidewalks and Blackberry Pie

**Author's Note:**

> CW: blood, minor injury

Bitty had died and was staring at the gates of heaven, where an angel was there to greet him.

At least, that’s what it looked like. The man hovering over him was beautiful, eyes as pale and blue as the winter sky behind him, sharply cut cheeks flushed from the cold. He had a pair of reading glasses hooked into the collar of his sweater and a beanie pulled over his dark hair. When he held out a hand for Bitty to take, it was large and rough and warm, and Bitty felt his heart leap up into his throat.

“Are you okay?” The man asked in an accent that hinted of northern places Bitty had never seen. “Shit, you’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” Bitty reached up to touch his nose; it hurt quite a bit, but probably wasn’t broken. Still, blood was trickling from it, and he hissed at the sight. “Ooh.”

“We should ice that,” the man said, staring at Bitty with an adorable amount of concern.

“Then just shove my head back into the snow,” Bitty joked, wincing as he touched his nose again. “Ugh, the boys’re never gonna let me live this down. You’d think I’d be able to handle icy sidewalks by now.”

The man didn’t laugh and continued to look increasingly worried. “Let me take you to the med center,” he said, reaching out to touch Bitty’s face before drawing back his hand suddenly. “That’s a lot of blood.”

Bitty shrugged. “I’m a hockey player, I’m used to blood.”

A strange look passed over the man’s face. “I would feel better if you let me help you,” he eventually said, voice soft.

“I was headed back to the hockey haus anyway,” Bitty said with a shrug. “You can watch me hold an ice pack to my nose there if you want.”

“I do want,” the man muttered, looking embarrassed. Bitty wanted to pinch his cheeks and smooth the worry from around his eyes and tell bad jokes until he finally smiled.

“I’m Bitty,” he said, giving the man a small grin. “Well, Eric, but they call me Bitty.”

The man looked Bitty up and down, mouth quirking with the obvious, unsaid chirp. “I’m Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” Bitty said, pulling open his satchel to grab at the pack of tissues he kept there in the colder months. He grabbed several and held them to his nose, thankful he was wearing his ratty, old MCHS sweatshirt instead of clothing he liked, as it was now sprinkled with drops of blood. “I would certainly appreciate an escort home, if you’ve got the time.”

Jack nodded, the worry in his face lessening. “Yeah.”

They chatted idly as they walked, Bitty providing about 90% of the conversation, as he was wont to do. But Jack was an attentive listener, nodding and humming in all the right places, occasionally asking questions when Bitty was afraid he’d gone on too long. It was probably the longest it had ever taken Bitty to walk from class to the Haus, but he enjoyed every second of talking to Jack.

“Do you want any pie?” Bitty asked as they kicked off their boots and headed into the kitchen. There were at least four gel ice packs in the freezer already, for all of their various hockey- and kegster-related injuries. Bitty grabbed one and wrapped it in a towel, then gestured at the three half-full pie tins sitting on the counter.

“Oh.” Jack blinked owlishly, staring at the pies with unprecedented confusion. “Is that blackberry?”

“Yes!” Bitty said, grabbing two plates from the cupboard. “Please, have a slice, it’s still relatively fresh.”

“Oh, it’s homemade?” Jack served Bitty a slice first, making Bitty’s tiny, southern heart swell. “Was it for a bake sale or something?”

“No, no, just kinda my thing,” Bitty said, grabbing two forks from the drawer and hoping they were clean enough. “Make the best pies in Samwell, if I do say so myself.”

“ _You_  made these?” Bitty watched with pride as Jack stopped cutting and moved the knife over to make his slice twice as large. “They smell delicious.”

“Thank you,” Bitty said, glad his face was hidden by the ice pack; he could feel a blush rising on his cheeks, and knew he probably looked like a lovesick puppy. “I used peach juice instead of lemon for the filling since I had some leftover from the honey peach pie, but I think it adds a bit smoother edge since the berries are naturally tart this time of year.”

“It’s amazing,” Jack said around his first mouthful. “I try not to eat sweets very often but…wow.”

Bitty ducked his head to hide a smile, bringing his own forkful to his mouth. “Well, thank you.”

“How’s your nose?” Jack asked, setting down his plate. “It still hurt?”

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s fine,” Bitty said, pulling the ice pack away. “Bleeding’s stopped.”

“Good,” Jack said, suddenly looking a bit shy. “I’d feel weird asking out a bleeding guy.”

Bitty’s heart skipped a beat. “How about a guy who  _isn’t_  bleeding but whose sweatshirt is covered in blood?”

“Less weird,” Jack said, grinning tentatively. “Are you free for dinner? Tonight?”

“I could be persuaded to let my boys fend for themselves for an evening,” Bitty said slowly, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the blood on his clothes and the state of his hair.

“Do you like Italian?” Jack asked. “There’s that cafe on Main Street. It’s…cozy.”

Bitty nodded, charmed by Jack’s sudden timid manner of speech. “They have wonderful gnocchi. And we could come back here, for dessert and coffee?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically, either excited for what Bitty  _really_  meant by coffee or for more pie, and both prospects made Bitty’s skin fizzle with anticipation and joy. “Is it weird to say I’m glad you slipped on the ice today?” Jack asked, picking up his fork again.

“Sure is,” Bitty chirped, licking blackberry filling from his thumb. Jack watched with curious, hungry eyes. “But I’m very glad I did as well.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr.](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/165874143717/zimbits-meetcute-au-icy-sidewalks-and-blackberry)
> 
> Please check out my [ online novel, The Discourt Knife.](http://thediscourtknife.com/)


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